


Someone like you

by Lothiriel84



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears / When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears / And I held your hand through all of these years…" (Evanescence) - Set in an indefinite future when Red John will be finally out of the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone like you

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears_

_And I held your hand through all of these years…_

_  
_

 

He wasn't really surprised when he heard someone banging at the door.

Of course she would come and check on him. She always did.

"Had a good trip?"

His casual question earned him one of her customary glares.

"Why didn't you call me, Jane?"

"Just needed a break, I guess."

She sighed. "How're you doing?"

"I'm fine. I mean, all things considered…"

"Yeah."

Red John was dead. Neither of them was particularly keen on addressing the issue, yet they both knew they had to – sooner or later.

"I would make you coffee, but I don't keep any of it here. I myself had to do without tea for the past few days."

She couldn't help a look of concern from showing on her face.

"When was the last time that you ate anything?"

"Lisbon…"

"Jane."

He didn't feel like arguing with her. "Yesterday evening. Had some eggs at a nearby restaurant."

"You really need being looked after, don't you?"

Her attempt at humor managed to draw a small smile from him.

"Meh."

They sat on the bottom step of the stair – him staring into space, her staring at him.

"Are you planning to move back in here?"

"Of course not. I can't… I don't think I could ever…"

"Yeah."

His gaze wandered across the bare hall. "Not sure if I can sell the house though."

"You don't have to."

"Everything is so… confused."

"I understand."

Finally he looked straight into her eyes. "Of course you do. That's one of the reasons why I'm so fond of you."

"Jane."

"Don't blush. I mean it."

"Well… thanks."

"You're welcome."

There was another pause of silence. He spoke again at length.

"I'm so tired of being here, Lisbon."

She knew that he wasn't talking just about the house.

"You're going to feel better. I promise."

"It's not true what they say – that time heals all wounds, I mean. It's almost a decade now, and it still hurts like the first day."

He could tell that she was desperately struggling to keep her voice steady now.

"I know. It was the same for me – after my mother died. It took me more than ten years to get over it."

Both of them were well aware that things were actually different – she couldn't be held responsible of her mother's death in any way.

She felt relieved when she saw he wasn't going to point this out.

"I'm glad to have you here." There was something unfathomable about his cerulean eyes as he looked at her.

"Never mind."

"Teresa. I know I'm not exactly the easiest person to put up with…"

"Well, that's much of an understatement, don't you think?"

He smirked. "Whatever."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Don't think that I could ever thank you enough, actually."

She squeezed his hand gently. "It's okay, Jane."

"What am I going to do know?"

The childlike faith behind his question took her completely by surprise. She hadn't realized yet how deep was the trust he put in her.

"You have to go on with your life, Jane. You'd better get yourself a life, as a matter of fact."

"Well, coming from you…"

"I _do_ have a life."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Jane…"

"All right. We're not talking about _your_ life, are we?"

"That's exactly my point."

"Other people always come first, don't they? I guess that nickname was well deserved after all."

"Don't bring it up again, please."

"Why not, Saint Teresa?"

"Jane."

His smile was more genuine now. "Do you happen to like my name, by any chance?"

She pouted slightly. "You have to be annoying at all costs, don't you?"

"Meh."

"I'm being serious. You should look for a place to live for a start. A real home – neither a motel room, nor… _this_."

For a moment she was afraid that he might be upset about what she'd just said. He wasn't though.

"I'll see what I can do about that."

"Good."

"Then… what?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "I'm sure you're going to figure it out."

"You think I should find myself a woman, don't you?"

"Well… yes."

A sigh escaped from his lips. "Tell me you're not planning to introduce me to all your female friends."

"Of course not. I recall that you once said you could seduce any woman you liked to."

"Seduction isn't exactly the key to a stable relationship, don't you think?"

"One never knows."

"You saw that video, didn't you?"

"What?"

He was amused to see that she hadn't the slightest idea of what he was talking about.

"The video I made at the dating agency. I know you watched it when you came to the attic as you were looking after your laptop."

"Well, I… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done such a thing… it's just…"

"Hey. You don't have to apologize. It's okay."

"Really?"

"Really. It'll save me the pain of telling you myself."

There was a bemused look on her face now. "You want me to help you find the woman of your dreams?"

"Hm. Yes and no. Do you remember what I said in that video?"

She furrowed her brow. "That… you were looking for a woman you could trust."

He smiled. This was his Lisbon – she would remember the precise words of course.

"Yeah. A strong woman, at peace with herself. A woman that could love me despite seeing me exactly for what I am."

"Don't think I know anyone that meets all the requirements."

"Oh, you do. Believe me."

Her sea green eyes locked with his own as realization suddenly dawned on her.

"I'm none of these things, Jane."

"Always so modest – aren't you?"

"Patrick, I…"

He placed a gentle finger on her lips. "You don't have to give me an answer right now."

"I'm nothing like your late wife. You know that."

"You're you. And that's the thing I like most."

"Very profound."

"It's the truth anyway."

On a sudden impulse she rested her head against his shoulder. His fingers threaded through her dark hair almost of their own accord.

"What do you say about dinner? Don't know if you're hungry, but I'm actually starving."

She gave him what was meant to be a superior smile. "What did I say before? You _do_ need someone to look after you."

"If I admit as much, would you be willing to take charge of that side of things?"

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she stood up and held out her hand to him.

"Maybe."

A grin finally lit up his face when he took her hand and walked out of the house.

Neither of them was aware of the almost inaudible sigh of relief that came from the darkness in the empty room upstairs.


End file.
